


Collected Ficlets

by listerinezero



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Blind Date, Domestic, Exes, Fluff, Grandparents & Grandchildren, M/M, Old Married Couple, Penis Size, Roommates, Voice Acting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-19 22:43:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2405579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/listerinezero/pseuds/listerinezero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ficlets featuring Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr.</p>
<p>Chapters 7-11 added 11/16/14</p>
<p>(Added chapter descriptions)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I realized that I've accumulated a lot of these, so I'm going to gradually start archiving them here. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Chapter breakdown (because I like when other authors do this!)
> 
> 1\. Modern domestic AU  
> 2\. Post-DOFP, Erik comes home  
> 3\. Modern grandparent AU  
> 4\. Historical AU - penis size talk  
> 5\. Modern AU - exes  
> 6\. Post-DOFP Mansion fic - Rogue & Magneto  
> 7\. Modern AU - blind date  
> 8\. Modern AU - Middle aged meet cute  
> 9\. Modern AU - roommates  
> 10\. Old Dudes - Skype sex  
> 11\. Modern AU - voice actors

_Prompt from pearlo: "How about Erik and Charles having a months-long argument about whether to get a puppy or have a kid?"_

* * *

 

Charles adds it to the list on the refrigerator door in the PRO: PUPPY column. He decides to phrase it as  _"Can keep social lives."_  That’s not exactly the train of thought that’s going through his head, though, and he writes it with a sad sigh.

He’s lost yet another friendship to babydom. First it was Scott and Jean who just couldn’t find the time to get together after Rachel was born. Then it was Raven and Irene after they adopted Marie and Kurt in one swoop. At least in that case Charles could insist, as the proud uncle, that they make time for him. Now Moira has given birth. Baby Kevin, sweet little thing. It’s only been two months, and yes, Charles knows that the first couple of months are tough, and he knows that Moira has no  _intention_  of cutting him out of her life, but it still feels that way. On the way home from work he overheard a young woman with an infant strapped to her back tell another with one in a carriage, “I just can’t talk to people who don’t have kids anymore, you know? They just don’t get it!”

Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t get it, Charles thinks bitterly. He’d rather have a puppy and maintain the relationships with the people he cares about than cut himself off from the world for one squealing infant. A small voice in the back of his head tells him that he’d like to join that parent club, but no - he would never want to make someone else feel the way he does now.

  
_"Can keep social liv_ es”is the seventeenth item in the PRO: PUPPY column. The pro/con list of puppy vs. baby has been going on for four and a half months now, since his and Erik’s second wedding anniversary, with no clear winner in sight. They keep insisting to each other that there’s no rush to make any decisions. They’re still young. They have a wonderful life as it is. But he and Erik both want to have a family. The only question is when. And whether or not they’re ready. And whether or not maybe they should just get a puppy and see how that goes before they make any big decisions. But even a puppy seems like a big decision, and so here they are.

Charles puts the pen back in the drawer and goes upstairs to the bedroom to change his clothes. It’s his birthday, though it doesn’t feel much like it. He’s not feeling very celebratory, especially not after that little list update, and the apologetic voicemail from Moira saying she couldn’t make it out for his birthday after all.

"Charles?" Erik’s voice bellows from downstairs.

"I’m upstairs," Charles calls back. "I’ll be down in a minute."

As he’s changing one button down shirt for a slightly nicer one, he hears Erik call up to him, “Since Moira and Nick can’t make it and it’s just the two of us, I canceled the reservation.”

Charles grumbles quietly to himself. Quite a miserable birthday this is turning out to be.

"I thought I’d cook instead," Erik continues.

Charles sighs and leaves the bedroom. “That’s fine,” he tells Erik as he heads downstairs.

"Also I have a couple of presents for you that are better kept here," says Erik.

Charles rounds the corner into the living room and finds Erik, grinning, holding a puppy. His jaw drops.

"She’s a mutt," Erik says softly, and hands the squirming, panting thing over to Charles. "Part corgi, part something else. But she’s very sweet." She is, and she’s immediately taken with Charles, showing her affection by licking his face and wiggling her butt so wildly that Charles can hardly keep hold of her. "She doesn’t have a name yet," Erik continues. "I thought I’d let you have the honor, since it’s your birthday."

"Oh, Erik!" is all Charles can say. He’s smiling and he’s happy, really he is. He tries not to think about the other columns on the refrigerator door and instead holds the puppy up in front of his face. "Look at you! You good girl! Aren’t you a good girl!" He kisses the puppy’s sweet little nose and cradles her to his chest once again. "Thank you, darling," he says to Erik, and kisses his nose as well.

Erik smiles. “Maybe you should put her down. Let her get the run of the place.”

Charles does as suggested and watches the puppy eagerly explore her new domain.

"Now," Erik says, "Birthday present number two." He hands Charles a manila envelope and Charles smiles again.

"Is this what I think it is?" he asks as he fingers open the sealed envelope.

Erik doesn’t seem to know how to answer that. No matter - Charles has already gotten the envelope open and is reading the headline. But it’s not the real estate paperwork for the condo they’d been eyeing.

"Adoption application?"

"All filled out," Erik says. "Just needs your signature."

Charles gapes at him. “I thought it would be the condo.”

"We’ll need something bigger than the condo with a baby  _and_  a puppy.” When he sees that Charles is speechless, Erik puts his arms around his shoulders. “I know you’ve been putting up with my foot dragging and list making. You’ve been so patient.” He kisses Charles’ temple. “I shouldn’t have done that to you. I want what you want. I want our family. I want everything. And I want you to be happy.”

Tears start to stream down Charles’ cheeks, and he wants to say something, but he just can’t find the words.

Erik kisses his tears and whispers into Charles ear, “The dog just pooped in the corner.”

All Charles can do is laugh, full of more joy than he’s ever felt in all his life. And get some paper towels.


	2. Chapter 2

It was the first time Erik had rang the doorbell in… it was possible this was the first time Erik had ever rang the school’s doorbell. It had become Erik’s habit to swoop in through Charles’ bedroom window at night like a middle aged Peter Pan, but instead he stood in the entrance way in a simple jacket and well fitting jeans, his expression soft and earnest. To Charles he looked just as he had nearly twenty years earlier, when he’d stood in the entrance of the CIA facility, wearing a similar outfit but a much sterner expression.

"This is a nice surprise," Charles said mildly, hiding his cautious joy from the handful of students and faculty that were hovering nearby.

"I hope you don’t mind my stopping by." Erik was also playing to their audience.

"Not at all. Come in."

Erik stepped inside with a gentle smile and to everyone’s surprise, including Charles’, leaned over to kiss Charles hello. No one gasped, but it was a near thing. Only Kitty, who’d been walking past on her way to the dormitory, gaped at them and asked, “Magneto?”

"Actually, this is my friend, Erik," Charles said. He meant for it to sound pointed and stern, but didn’t quite manage it through the goofy smile he and Erik were sharing.

Erik nodded towards Kitty and said hello as if they were being introduced for the first time. They were, come to think of it. The last time Erik and Kitty were in the same room, Magneto was trying to destroy an armory, and there hadn’t been time for pleasantries.

"Why don’t we have a drink in my office?" Charles suggested, leading Erik away from the onlookers. By the time they’d gone inside and shut the door behind them, the crowd had doubled in size.

"So, what were their reactions when they saw me?" Erik asked.

Charles almost laughed. “They were shocked! Of course they were shocked. Even I was shocked. I still am!” He grinned at Erik and shook his head as he poured himself a scotch. “Why didn’t you just come in the window like you always do? No one would have to see you.”

Erik’s smile was becoming sneaky. “Because maybe I want them to see me.”

"Want them to see you?"

"I just thought…" Erik sighed. "I guess I was curious to see their reaction. Maybe in time they might… get used to seeing me around."

Charles’ cautious joy was beginning to make his heart thump.

"I’m not getting any younger, Charles." Erik’s voice was heavy. "We always said some day, some day…" He shrugged. "I love you. I don’t want to sneak out in the morning like I’m ashamed of it."

"You want to stay?" Charles choked.

"If you’ll have me." He nodded towards the door. "If they’ll have me."

"Bloody hell, Erik, who cares what they think?"

Erik shrugged again. He did. He cared about whether or not he was welcome, and they both knew that he probably wouldn’t be. But that hardly mattered. Erik wanted to stay.

Erik wanted to stay.


	3. Chapter 3

_Prompt from Anon: "We're pregnant!" Lorna says. Erik stares at her blankly. All he can think is that 'we' had better mean 'Alex,' or else he's going to end up killing something._

* * *

  

“We’re pregnant!” Lorna says. Erik stares at her blankly. All he can think is that ‘we’ had better mean ‘Alex,’ or else he’s going to end up killing something.

He is not going to kill anything, he tells himself. He is not going to overreact. This is not going to be like when she told them she was getting married. He has matured since then. He is 46 years old now. He’s learned to control his temper. He’s learned breathing exercises. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. In through the nose. Flare the nostrils. Clench the jaw.

That son of a bitch got his baby pregnant. His little baby girl Lorna, with her downy soft green ringlets, who fell asleep in his lap sucking her thumb, who wrote her first paragraph about how much she loved her Papa, who ran into his arms every day after school and kissed his cheek  and over his dead body is she—

“You can’t have a baby you’re my baby!”

Erik hears the words shoot through the air and it so startles him that he’s already covered his own mouth before he realizes that wasn’t his outburst - that was Charles.

Charles’s mouth is hanging open agape, and he looks as shocked at himself as he is at Lorna. Erik expects him to backpedal and apologize, but instead he continues, “You’re barely out of school! You haven’t even been married a year! You— you can’t have a baby!”

Erik feels his body moving to agree with Charles. He feels his arm wanting to lift, his finger wanting to point at her, his mouth wanting to tell her to go to her room (which, come to think of it, now contains a pool table and a jukebox). But his mind is preoccupied. His mind is remembering baby soft ringlets, a toddler sleeping on his lap, tiny little giggles, adoring kisses on his cheek. A baby. A grandchild.

And Erik supposes, just this once, he might have to be the one to say, “Charles, it’s going to be okay.”


	4. More Than Adequate

Prompted by [this anecdote](http://spicedpiano.tumblr.com/post/42801731674/soaringrachel-sea-change-they-also-went-to) about Ernest Hemingway reassuring F. Scott Fitzgerald over the adequacy of his penis size.

* * *

 

 

Charles spotted Erik immediately. He was sitting at a table in the far corner of the restaurant, nervously fingering the brim of his hat, which was sitting on the table in front of him. He immediately sat up straighter when he saw Charles approaching him.

"I hope you haven’t been waiting long," Charles said as he took a seat across from Erik and placed his own hat on the table beside Erik’s. "It’s good to see you again," he said with a smile. "You look well."

"I need to talk to you about my penis." 

Charles’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

Erik leaned forward confidentially and, thank heavens, lowered his voice. “My penis,” he repeated.

"Yes, I heard you the first time. What about your penis?"

A waitress approached their table, and Erik waited for her to finish filling their water glasses and dropping off their menus before he continued. “It’s Magda,” he said, and Charles saw then the way that his shoulders were tensed, the way his fingers were tapping nervously on the table. “You know that we were married very young. I’ve never… I’ve never been with anyone else.”

Charles tried his best to act as though this were a perfectly normal topic for lunch conversation. Truthfully, he and Erik have spoken about sex a number of times. They have even, well… but it was not the time to dwell on that.

"Yes, I know," Charles said.

"We were in bed last night and she told me that my penis was… less than adequate."

Charles waited for Erik to continue, but Erik only stared at him earnestly, expectantly.

"I’m sorry, was that a question?" Charles asked.

"What did she mean? What is adequate?" Erik held his hands up about a foot apart, as though describing a fish he’d caught. "Is that…?" He moved his hands further apart.

"Oh, for god’s sake!" said Charles as he grabbed Erik’s hands. "I’m sure you are perfectly adequate. I don’t know why Magda would say such a thing to you." Charles shook his head. "You’re very tall. Proportionally, I’m sure you’re more than adequate."

Still Erik looked insecure and miserable, so Charles stood from the table.

"Come on," said Charles.

"Where are we going?"

"To the loo."

Rather than looking embarrassed or surprised, as Charles would have guessed, Erik looked quite pleased, and was on his feet immediately.

Fortunately, the restaurant only had one restroom, so there was no chance of running into anyone else. With a careful glance to make sure no one noticed them go in together, they shut themselves into the small men’s room together.

"You first," said Erik.

Charles rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help himself from smiling a bit. “All right.” Without taking his eyes off Erik, Charles undid his trousers and lowered them to his ankles.

Erik slowly, cautiously, lowered his gaze from Charles’s. “Oh.”

"Oh?"

Erik smiled and stepped closer. “I was so concerned about size that I forgot about…”

Ah. Of course Erik was circumcised.

"Well, come on, then," Charles said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. (Not a feeling Charles was used to.) "Your turn."

Again Erik stepped closer, this time dropping his own trousers as well.

Unlike Erik, Charles did not hesitate before looking. Erik’s was notably longer, slightly narrower, and cut. And beginning to become erect.

"See?" said Charles, somewhat breathlessly. "More than adequate."

"More than adequate," Erik repeated, and kissed him.

Charles went a little weak in the knees, embarrassingly enough - he’d been daydreaming about this for weeks now, ever since Erik confessed his attraction to men. And now here was Erik, grabbing him and tonguing him and naked from the waist down. Charles had never been a blushing maiden, and he wasn’t about to turn into one now. He grabbed Erik by the ass and pressed their bodies together.

Erik gasped Charles name and backed him against the wall, pinning him there as he sucked on Charles’ neck.

"Erik?"

"Hm?"

"Do you still want Magda to be the only person you’ve been with?"

Erik removed his lips from Charles’ chest long enough to look up at him with dark, fevered eyes. He shook his head.

A wicked smile crept over Charles’ face. “Check under the sink and let’s see if they have anything for lubricant.” He took Erik’s cock in hand, causing Erik to hitch in surprise. “I want this beautiful thing inside me.”

To Charles’s surprise, Erik blushed. “I think yours is beautiful.”

Charles’ grin softened into a warm smile and he kissed Erik sweetly on the lips. He had been expecting - even hoping for - a rough fuck in a public men’s room, but maybe, Charles thought, this might be something even better.


	5. Chapter 5

_Prompt from Anonymous: He thought that losing his pants on the subway was the #1 most traumatic part of his day, but now he knows that there was indeed room for something far far worse._

* * *

 

 

He thought that losing his pants on the subway was the #1 most traumatic part of his day, but now he knows that there was indeed room for something far far worse: running into Charles on the street after losing his pants on the subway.

"I can explain."

"I certainly hope so," Charles said, one rogue eyebrow shooting sky high and a secret smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. But just as Erik began to blush pink at seeing that expression on Charles’ face again, Charles put his obvious enjoyment away. "Not that you owe me an explanation."

Then, after he watched Charles' face slide into indifference, that was when Erik learned that losing his pants on the subway then running into his ex was just the beginning of his descent into hell. That was when Erik’s day became truly, irreparably shitty. That was when some other guy stepped out of the Starbucks behind Charles, put his hand on his waist, and with a nod towards graceless, pantsless, blushing Erik, asked, “Friend of yours?”

"Um, yes," Charles fumbled. "This is—"

Erik panicked. "I’m sorry I really have to be going. I have to… I have to go find pants." The words were barely out of Erik’s mouth before he turned tail (very exposed tail) and hurried down to the opposite end of the street and around the corner. That his apartment was in the other direction, and that Charles obviously knew that having lived there with him for three and a half years, was just the icing on the embarrassing cake.

This really just could not get any worse.

His pants were gone. The wallet in his pants was gone. His dignity - well, he’d lost that years ago but this sure hadn’t helped. His chances of getting back together with Charles? Over. Kaput. Finito.

At least he’d forgotten his phone when he left the house that morning. It was still sitting on his dresser. What had, at 10am, been the worst decision of his day had turned out to be his one stroke of luck. He even had a text message.

_I’m not dating him_

Erik blinked. He had half a mind to shake the phone like an Etch-A-Sketch to see if it was real, to see if it would dissolve, to see if it was a figment of his imagination, but no, it appeared to be real. It was a real live text message from Charles, time stamped to about 17 minutes after he’d run into him bare-thighed outside the less-crowded Starbucks on Lexington Avenue.

He stood there in his bedroom, still in his socks and briefs, and stared at the phone, trying to decide how to respond.

Before he could, another text came in.

_Did you find your pants?_

Erik took a deep breath and responded.

_Yes._

Okay, it wasn’t the cleverest text he ever sent Charles, but it answered the question, didn’t it?

 _I’m glad to hear it_ , Charles sent back.

And then:  _It was good to see you._

Erik:  _It was good to see you too._

Erik: _That guy looked like a douchebag._

Charles: _He was._

Erik took a deep breath.  _I miss you,_  he typed. Then he backspaced. He typed it again. Then he backspaced.  _When did you start dating again?_  he typed. Then he backspaced.  _I really did have an explanation for the pants,_  he typed. Then he backspaced.

Erik rubbed at his eyes, sighed, and rested his forehead against the wall. This shouldn’t be this hard, he thought. Not with Charles. Maybe Charles was right. Maybe it really is over.

His phone beeped.

_You want to go get a drink? Please wear pants. ;)_


	6. Chapter 6

Prompt from kageillusionz: "By the way, just as a matter of curiosity and for future reference, but, why did you kiss me back there?"

* * *

 

 

“By the way, just as a matter of curiosity and for future reference, but, why did you kiss me back there?”

Rogue blushed and shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess because I could, for once.”

Magneto patted her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he said, and turned away. It was a schoolgirl crush, he reminded himself, and they both knew it, but that didn’t make it any easier to let her down. It was nothing. Just a peck on the cheek. Best not to dwell on it, he thought, and spent the rest of the ride back home looking out the window.

**

Of course he did dwell on it. He dwelled on it throughout the entire ride back to school. He dwelled on it when they got off the jet and Rogue bolted back to her room while the rest of them patted each other on the back and congratulated themselves on a job well done. He dwelled on it when he went to greet Charles, who he had missed terribly during these days away. He dwelled on it when he kissed Charles’ cheek, knowing that the last person that kissed him that way was his favorite student, who now probably wanted nothing to do with him. He dwelled on it all through dinner, through his nightly routine, while getting into bed.

“You have no reason to feel guilty,” Charles murmured in his ear after the lights were out, after Charles had wrapped his arms around Erik’s waist and pulled him close. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“She must hate me,” he said.

“She doesn’t hate you. She’s just embarrassed.”

“What am I supposed to do now?” Erik asked with a sigh.

Charles kissed his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. “Just let it work itself out. And maybe stop telling Gambit to stay the hell away from her.”

“Gambit is not good enough for her.”

“You don’t think anyone is good enough for her,” Charles said with an affectionate squeeze. “But someone will have to be. Nothing kills a crush faster than another crush.”

“Hmph.”

“Unless  _you_  want to take her to the prom.”

Erik turned over to face Charles. “She knows I already asked you.”

Charles scoffed. “I’m going stag! I want to keep my options open!”

Erik barked a laugh. “Fine, then! See if I invite you to the beach house afterwards!”


	7. Chapter 7

Erik was fifteen minutes early for his blind date, as he was for most things. Raven always said that punctuality was his least attractive quality, and as it was her brother that Erik was there to meet, he decided to take a walk around the block before going to the restaurant. 

Along the way, Erik also checked his phone, just to be sure that he was at the right place, and he discovered he’d received an email from Charles four hours earlier:

_Hello Erik, I just wanted to warn you that my phone is on the fritz and I had to leave it at the Apple Store, so it will be out of service for the next few hours. I am assuming that we are still on for tonight, but just in case, you can reach me by email, and I’ll check it before I leave. See you tonight. Charles._

_Shit_ , thought Erik. Of course, people went on blind dates long before the invention of the iPhone, but he had no idea how they’d done it. He would just have to go to the bar and hope that Charles showed up, no chance of a text saying “Hey I’m here,” or “Sorry, running late.” They’d just have to do it the old fashioned way.

Erik ended his stall-tactic walk around the block and returned to the restaurant, where he sat at the bar and ordered a glass of red wine. “Whatever you’ve got open,” he told the bartender. “I’m just waiting for someone.”

The bartender poured him a rich pinot noir. “Blind date?”

“Unfortunately.”

Not entirely blind, though. Erik pulled his phone back out and opened the picture Raven had sent him of her brother. “He’s super cute,” she’d said. “And you are so his type.” But the man in the picture wasn’t exactly Erik’s type. He looked awfully young - long haired and rosy cheeked. The picture was taken at a birthday party, or at least Erik assumed so based on the cardboard cone party hat on his head, and he was giddily drunk. Erik didn’t do giddily drunk, not since he was eighteen years old.

The restaurant had been Charles’ suggestion, and it didn’t seem like something a young party boy would choose. It was an upscale French fusion restaurant with an impressive wine list and nice linens. The food smelled delicious. Erik’s tongue was starting to water. He checked his phone for the time.

“Your date running late?” the bartender asked.

“I guess so.”

It was fifteen minutes past the hour. Time was up, as far as Erik was concerned, but he still had a few sips left in his wine glass, so he decided to give it until twenty past.

At eighteen minutes he was annoyed. At nineteen he was furious. At twenty, he was just insulted. 

He flagged down the bartender. “I’ll take the check please.”

Instead of getting the check, the bartender poured him another half glass of wine on the house. 

Now Erik was really annoyed. It was bad enough to be embarrassed in private, but to receive pity wine was beyond the pale. The smile he gave the bartender was probably closer to a grimace, but he downed the wine in one gulp and left some cash on the bar.

“Thanks,” he said, took his coat, and left.

_Fucking stupid idea_ , Erik grumbled to himself as he did the walk of shame across the restaurant dining room. He never ever should have agreed to this. He should have known that Raven’s brother would be some dumb party boy flake. And anyway, Erik was a catch, and he knew it. He didn’t need to be set up on blind dates, he thought as he pushed open the restaurant door and stepped out onto the street. He could find his own men, grown up men who actually —

“Erik?” said a voice. “Excuse me, are you Erik?”

Erik turned around. “Yes?”

A man was standing in front of the entrance. “I’m Charles,” he said. “I am so, so sorry. I’ve been waiting here. I don’t have my phone, so I couldn’t text you. You were here the whole time?”

The anger that had been fermenting inside Erik dissolved. This Charles was not the Charles he was imagining. This Charles was not an inconsiderate, baby-faced party boy. This Charles had cut his hair since that photo was taken, and was dressed in a sharp suit. He wore a very attractive neat beard instead of a drunken blushing grin. This Charles made Erik’s stomach flip.

“I was at the bar,” he croaked.

Charles gaped at him. “I went in and didn’t see you, so I came to wait out here because I was worried I would miss you.” Slowly a smile crept across his face. “I thought I’d been stood up!” he chuckled.

Erik smiled back. “So did I!”

They stood in front of the restaurant smiling at each other for a full minute before Charles finally stepped forward. “So, do you still want to have dinner? I know it’s getting late now…”

“Yes,” said Erik. “Yes, I’d like that.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from fourteenacross: "Middle-aged Charles and Erik meet browsing in the same bookstore!"

"Mr. Dapper is following you," Raven whispered.

"Who?"

"Shh!"

Charles put down the biography of Winston Churchill he’d been thumbing through. “Raven, I —”

Then he saw who the “he” was.

"Him?" Charles squeaked quietly, ‘him’ being the tall, chiseled man two shelves away, with the gray in his sideburns and the mutant history book in his hands.

Raven smirked. “He’s been checking you out.” She nudged him. “Go talk to him.”

Charles picked up the Churchill again and casually peeked at Mr. Dapper as Raven made herself scarce. It would be absolutely, one hundred percent immoral, not to mention illegal and just plain rude, for him to use his telepathy to find out whether or not this handsome man was actually interested or just gawking at the wheelchair, Charles reminded himself, but fortunately, telepathy wasn’t necessary. When Mr. Dapper saw Charles looking back, he blushed crimson and smiled.

Charles put the book in his lap and wheeled himself over. “Are you a fan of Winston Churchill?” he asked.

Mr. Dapper’s smile widened. “Actually, I’m a fan of yours. Dr. Charles Xavier? I’ve seen you on television.” He put his hand out. “Erik Lehnsherr.”

"Oh!" Charles shook his hand. "Yes, that’s me. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Erik took off his glasses, revealing ice blue eyes. The move was so suave, it may have been choreographed. "I really enjoyed your interview on Rachel Maddow."

 _Yes, yes, yes!_  Charles thought, but externally he played bashful. “I only wanted to draw attention to the struggles of gay mutants; it wasn’t my intention to make the entire episode about my sex life,” he chuckled.

Erik’s smile grew even wider, though Charles hardly thought it possible. “Well, I, for one, was not complaining!” With one hand he smoothed back a gray lock that had fallen across his forehead. “You know, there’s a cafe in the back of the store. I don’t suppose I could buy you a cappuccino?”

"I would lo—"

Charles didn’t even manage to get the words out before a tiny green whirlwind flew past him and screamed, “DADDY I HAVE TO MAKE POOPY IN THE POTTY!”

The little green-haired girl threw herself at Erik, who no longer looked quite so dapper, and was blushing for an entirely different reason. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Charles. This is my daughter, Lorna.”

Charles said hello, but Lorna didn’t seem interested. “I have to go to the bathroom!” she whined to Erik.

Erik looked mortified.

"It’s all right," said Charles. "Take your time. I’ll meet you at the cafe when you’re ready."

Erik left without another word and followed his daughter to the bathroom. Charles smiled to himself and brought the Churchill over to the cafe to wait.

 _What happened to Mr. Dapper?_  Raven asked him from across the store.

 _Busy being Mr. Diaper,_ Charles replied.  _Date to follow._


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from turtletotem: "Charles doesn’t want his roommate Erik judging his ice cream consumption so he waits for the dead of night, only to find Erik elbows-deep in HIS rocky road."

Erik’s gym bag dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. 

"I’m gonna take a shower," he said, peeling off his sweat-dampened shirt. "Do you need to use the bathroom?"

Charles tried not to ogle Erik as he reached into the closet for a clean towel. “No, thank you. It’s all yours.”

The bathroom door closed behind Erik and when he heard the shower turn on, Charles finally exhaled. Erik was a fantastic roommate so far: considerate, polite, fit, gorgeous, built like a god… not that those were qualities Charles looked for in a roommate. Considerate and polite, yes, but the whole movie star gorgeous thing was turning out to be a point in the CON column.

It made Charles self-conscious, not only about gawking at Erik, but worrying about whether or not Erik was judging him for  _not_ being built like a Roman statue. Charles spent his time after work doing more work, not working out. And unlike Erik, who had only Muscle Milk and canned beans in the refrigerator, Charles had a sweet tooth that needed appeasing. He wasn’t ashamed of his body or his sugar habit; he just worried that Erik thought less of him for it.

Erik stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later in a cloud of steam that, combined with the light from the bathroom, made him look like an apparition. 

"I’m surprised you don’t shower at the gym," Charles said.

"I’d rather just come home." Erik peeked at the papers Charles had in front of him. "Homework?"

"Sort of," Charles admitted. "Just preparing for a meeting tomorrow."

"Good for you. I wish I cared about my work enough to bring it home with me." Erik’s eyes locked with Charles’. "You must be very passionate."

"I, um, well, I try."

More like he bribed himself. If he finished the presentation before 8:30pm, he’d told himself, he could finish the gallon of rocky road that he’d hidden in the freezer on Sunday.

By 8:15pm, Charles was finished with his work and ready for ice cream. The only problem was that Erik was sitting on the couch texting someone (not a girlfriend, Charles hoped) and watching last night’s Daily Show. No way he could have his rocky road while Erik was sitting right there.

Erik finally turned off the TV at 10:30pm. “I guess I’m going to turn in,” he said. “Have a good night.”

"Night."

The rocky road was calling to Charles.  _He’s gone_ , said the rocky road.  _You can eat me now! No one will judge you!_

But it was nearly past Charles’ bedtime, and he was a grown up, he reminded himself. The rocky road would still be there tomorrow. He did the washing up instead and got ready for bed, where he lay under the covers, staring at the ceiling. 

He’d done all that work. He’d stayed in. He didn’t go to the gym or the bar. He didn’t even ogle sweaty, topless Erik, standing right in front of him. Charles had damn well earned that rocky road tonight, so he threw off the covers and went into the kitchen, just for one scoop.

The kitchen light was already on.

"Oh, hey," said Erik. He was sitting at the kitchen table, eating the rocky road straight out of the carton. "I’m sorry, I’ll replace this, I promise. I just couldn’t sleep." Erik licked the spoon, his lips smacking on the chocolate. He held the carton out to Charles. "Want some?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from fourteenacross: "Charles and Erik are trying to bridge the distance of Charles' month-long trip to Oxford by having sexy Skype dates, but Erik thinks they're stupid and Charles is easily distracted, so instead of having Skype sex, they usually end up bickering about stupid inconsequential things instead, which just makes them miss each other more."

Erik’s phone beeped.

 _It’s Skype time where are you?_  read the text.

Erik rolled his eyes and typed back,  _We’re already texting, why do we have to Skype?_

_Because we’re too old for sexting. I’m waiting for you._

Erik sighed and grumbled to himself, “I can’t believe he actually used the word ‘sexting’.” He put the phone down and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and check himself in the mirror, then went to fetch his laptop from the bedroom. By the time he turned it on and logged into the Skype with Charles, five minutes had passed, and the screen showed an empty hotel room.

"Charles?" Erik asked the computer.

"Coming!"

"Charles, this was your idea and you’re the one who reminded me."

Finally Charles came into view. “Sorry, darling, I just remembered I had to get my notes together for my seminar on heredity in psionic mutations.”

"Well, I’m here now, as requested."

Charles made a put-upon face, the type that Erik pretends not to like. “Please don’t act like this is a chore. It’s been almost two weeks and I miss you.”

Erik relented. “I miss you, too. How’s Oxford?”

"Good. Busy."

"I can see that. You haven’t shaved."

Charles ran his hand over the fine white beard and horseshoe ring of hair that was beginning to come in. “I like it. Moira said she thinks I look handsome.”

Erik made a face. “ _Moira_  said?”

"Yes, you know Moira is here, too. I told you that. Actually…" Something offscreen caught Charles’ eye and he disappeared again.

"Well, I like you clean shaven," Erik mumbled while he waited for Charles to return.

Erik tapped his foot.

"Charles?" he called out again.

"Yes, yes, I’m here. Sorry. I was just reminded of something." His eyes were still focused on something off to the side, and he reached for his glasses.

Erik cleared his throat pointedly and announced, “Well, everything is fine here at the school. Nothing to report.”

"Oh!" Charles’ attention returned to the computer. "Yes, how is everyone?"

"All is well. They miss you." Erik drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair and watched Charles lips move silently - he was reading something and not listening. "Charles!"

"Yes! I’m here."

"Great. I’m going now. I love you, I miss you, this is ridiculous. I’ll call you tomorrow."

"No, wait!" said Charles. "I was hoping we might… well…" He moved his eyebrows suggestively. "You know…"

"What?"

"Skype sex?"

Erik’s mind boggled. “Are you out of your mind? Absolutely not. Good night, Charles,” he said, and slammed his laptop shut.

Imagine him, having sex, over the computer! Preposterous.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from turtletotem: "Erik and Charles are voice actors competing for a spot on a children’s superhero cartoon"

Erik was only pretending to read the magazine. He wasn’t even sure what magazine it was. No matter - it was the man on the opposite side of the room that held his attention.

There were three of them there in the waiting room for the call backs. Erik, some nerdy looking guy with ugly sunglasses that he hadn’t taken off even though they were in a windowless room, and him. Blue Eyes. Reading the sides over and practicing the lines under his breath. Erik probably should have been doing the same, but instead he just watched him, his pretty pink lips moving silently to words Erik should have memorized days ago. Erik didn’t know if he loved this guy or loathed him, but he couldn’t take his eyes off him.

He must have been there for the nerdy best friend part. That looked like his type - the nice guy, the friend, the well-meaning dork. That would be okay, Erik thought. Erik could play the hero and Blue Eyes could play the best friend. That would be all right. Erik could get used to sharing a recording booth with him.

"We’d like to see Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier," said a P.A. from the side door, and she waved to him and Blue Eyes to follow her.

Blue Eyes nodded at him politely and put out his hand as they walked. “Charles Xavier,” he said. “How do you do?”

Erik cleared his throat gruffly and shook his hand. “Erik Lehnsherr.”

The P.A. led them into the recording studio and handed them each fresh sheets. “Erik, we’d like you to read the part of Gordon, and Charles, if you could read Kid Commando?”

Charles grinned. “Absolutely,” he said.

But Erik shook his head. “I’m sorry, I thought I was here to read Kid Commando.”

"We liked your Gordon, actually," said the P.A., then she looked at her watch. "Charles, if you could go ahead and start at the top?"

Blue Eyes cleared his throat and shook out his shoulders, then began with a roar. “AAAARRRRRR IT IS I! KID COMMANDO! AND WHO DARES RING THE DOORBELL OF DOOM?”

"Uh, it’s me, Gordon," said Erik. "Can I come in? Is your mom home?"

"KID COMMANDO HAS NO MOTHER! Yeah, come on in, Gordon."

Off to the side, Erik could see the P.A. and the rest of their small audience nodding approval. This could work.

Erik looked over at Blue Eyes. Yeah, this could work.


End file.
